Where Fallen Angels Lay
by Ishvalan Alchemist
Summary: The Homunculi are after Edward's soul... and they will tear apart everyone he holds dear in order to get him to sacrifice it... You think you've seen bad?
1. Chapter I: A Solemn Game of Chess

**Where Fallen Angels Lay**

Author's Note: I began writing this fic probably a year ago. . I've been wanting to continue it, but I was caught into the black hole infamously known as World of Warcraft… Now finally I've been able to conquer and control the beast so yay!! Anywho, I'm going to revise and republish the fic and continue updating. I hope you guys enjoy )

Setting: This is toward the beginning of the anime series. Before Fullmetal vs Flame and a few months after the Xenotime and Aquroiya events. I _plan _on making this an epic fic, but with school and work it will take some time so bare with me. D

— I am also posting the reviews I received from my initial publishing.

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****Where Fallen Angels Lay **

**Chapter I: A Solemn Game of Chess**

Edward was slammed against a brick wall as rain flowed down from the ashen sky. His golden locks clung to his cheeks and neck. A trio of water, grime and blood caked his entire body from head to boot. Dangling from his right shoulder were nearly two dozen cords and filaments varying in size; his automail arm lay a few yards away. Thick stems of lightening followed by the rolling bellows of thunder filled the small alleyway he and his pursuers occupied.

Ed gritted his teeth as his body registered his favorite side dish; pain. Placed right below his ribcage was a large meaty paw that belonged to the Homunculus named Gluttony. His tiny rat-like eyes stared up at his prey; an eager sickening grin was plastered onto his ugly mug. And wherever this monster resided the owner was never far. Standing next to this faithful watchdog was the _Black Lance_ or more commonly; Lust. Her arms were crossed over her bosom and a stray strand of sable hair lay on her shoulder. She wore a long brown mackintosh that fitted snuggly in all the right places, whereas Gluttony only sported a black leotard.

"You must be crazy if you think I'm gonna give up my _soul,_ for some bastards like you!" Edward spat. He began to squirm under the grip of the obese creature.

"Don't worry Fullmetal; our master has every means of persuasion. So it will only be a matter of time before we have what we need." Lust uncrossed her arms, placed them on her hips and gazed out to the mouth of the alleyway.

"Master?" Ed asked forgetting the pain for a moment. "So you two answer to someone else?" He said more to himself. "And here I thought y'all were just a pair of trouble makers… Well, I need to speak to this _master_ of yours so I can knock some—

With a flick of the wrist, Lust thrust her index finger and thumb forward, grabbing Edward's tongue. Droplets of blood formed and trickled down with the rain. Gluttony caught the drops with his own tongue and swallowed then hungrily. His plump body began to quiver and he tightened his grip on the alchemist, crushing his abdomen. Edward howled in agony and swung his dangling feet.

"I wouldn't make such foolish declarations if I were you…" Lust let go and return her hand to her hip. "We're just here to make an offer... Your soul. Or your soul at the cost of others…"

"If you _touch_ Al…" Edward growled through clenched teeth. "I'll—

"You'll what?" A voice asked from above. Suddenly, a figure dropped from the roof of the opposite building and landed cleanly on their feet. Like Gluttony, he wore no rain coat, just a pair of black shorts, tight black undershirt and a black headband. His hair was long, spiked and an impossible obsidian green.

"Well, _you're_ not late." Lust said, acknowledging the newcomer.

"Hey, I had a few things to discuss with Master. Anyway, how hard could it have been to take down a runt like him?" Spike head said. He turned to Edward and smirked a crooked, devious smirk. "So squirt? What will it be?"

"I told you already… I will _not_ lose anyone at the hands of you freaks!" Edward shouted and a beam of light burst from his side. He had made a weak array from the dirt on the wall, but it was enough to knock Gluttony off his feet. As soon as Ed reached the ground, he dove for his right arm. Literally inches away, the alchemist reached forward; he could feel the cool metal in his grasp, but that evening; fate was against him.

"Hmph!" Every milliliter of air was forced out of the boy's lungs. A massive weight came crushing down on him; Gluttony sat on Edward's back, pinning him to the filthy ground.

"Lust, why can't I eat the little alchemist?" The portly Homunculus asked, sticking his finger in his mouth.

"I'll tell you why." The spiky head cut in and kneeled down by Edward. "Because this kid is our ticket to complete domination over this pathetic country. See, since he's seen the Gate we can make a—

"Envy!" Lust intervened. "We were ordered to keep the plan confined among _us_." Lust walked over and stood by Gluttony.

Envy sighed and dusted off his knees. "Well, at least we can have some fun before all this goes through."

There was a sudden blare of a siren; the three Homunculi turned their attention for a second.

"That's our queue." Lust patted Gluttony on the shoulder. With a whine he rose from his seat on Edward and waddled next to _his_ master. The two leapt up to the second story fire escape, then onto the roof and were gone.

"So we'll be contacting you in the next few days." Envy smirked again and kicked Edward's automail arm further down the alleyway.

"Wai…t." Ed collected as much oxygen as he could to form a simple sentence. Licking his lip he began again. "Who _are_… you?"

Envy glanced back at the pitiful figure and cocked his head. "Why Edward, _you_ of all people should know… we're Homunculi." And with that he transformed into a raven and left the young alchemist in the rain.

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Several minutes later, a few military vehicles screeched to a stop at the mouth of the alleyway. A tall cloaked figure emerged from shotgun and strode over to the entrance. 

"I was right; there has been a struggle here—and pretty recent too! Sergeant Peters and Jorgen follow my lead; the rest of you be prepared for a hostile situation to erupt, have the Medic stand by… and _where_ is the Colonel?" But he didn't listen for an answer. The cloaked man pulled out his service firearm, checked the barrel, safety and stepped into the unwelcoming foul smelling alley.

The rain had let up to a soft drizzle now and the thick bands of clouds were thinning. Though it was nearly nightfall, the air was clear enough to allow the men to travel without flashlights, but risks such as those couldn't be taken these days. The two Sergeants swept their torches across the ground and up each wall of the alley. Several yards in, the cloaked man stopped and raised his gun. He nodded for Sgt. Peters to shine his light a few yards ahead. The bright beam caught a lump of red material. Stepping closer the cloaked man's hand trembled slightly.

"Edward?" He strode forward and knelt by the limp figure only to confirm his assumption. Lying in an unnatural position was the pale body of Edward Elric. The man took in a deep breath as he placed a hand under the State Alchemist's jawbone. Finding a faint rhythmic beat allowed the man to exhale with ease. "The two of you scope out the rest of this alley, do not leave a piece of trash unturned! And someone get me a Paramedic!" The man ordered as he gently turned Edward onto his back.

Immediately, the boy began to cough and choke in pain. Speckles of blood dotted the youth's chin and neck. There were scars littered all over his uncovered body and a bruise that started from his right collar bone and became darker as it ran beneath his clothing.

The cloaked man felt an inequality in the shape of the boy and noticed that his entire right arm, his automail arm, was missing; a mess of neural networking stuck out from his metallic stump. "Make sure you locate an automail arm—and every piece that may belong to it!" Slowly, Edward's eyes began to flutter open then shut again.

"Did you find anything down there Maes?" A voice called out from the mouth of the alley.

"Yeah… it's Edward." Maes replied grimly.

"What!" The other man quickly made his way toward Maes as _another_ followed him.

"Paramedic, excuse me!" A grey clad officer pushed his way to the patient.

Maes stepped away from Edward as the Medic looked him over. "Where have _you _been?" Maes glanced at the other.

For a moment the third man, who was tall himself, said nothing. He just stared down at the pallid figure of the boy.

"Roy?" Maes asked, fully facing his friend.

An unfamiliar expression flashed across the Colonel's face as he finally acknowledged Hughes. "I… the car overheated and we nearly hydroplaned into a street lamp… I came as fast as I could." Roy took a step closer to his wounded subordinate only to be pushed back by the Medic.

"I need some room!" the medical officer ordered. He placed both hands on Edward's jacket and ripped it open. The loud tearing noise seemed to shock the boy to consciousness.

"Wha?" He sputtered. When his eyes came to focus, he saw a strange man lifting up his black undershirt exposing a violet shaded abdomen. Edward threw his hand up and knocked the Medic over. Struggling up to his shaky feet, Ed winced with each movement and breath.

"You may have some broken ribs; you need to lie down or they could puncture you lungs." The Paramedic went to grab the teen, but his arms were slapped away.

Edward steadied himself and attempted to take a step forward, but his foot tripped over the other and he began to fall. As if he saw this coming, the Colonel quickly knelt down and with an arm caught the boy on his stomach. The momentum of the fall focused such an amount of force against Edward's ribcage and diaphragm that he cried out in agony.

Mustang tried to help Fullmetal upright again, but Ed's hand gripped his arm and stopped him. A heavy wave of vomit burst out through the young soldier's mouth.

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A pair of silver time worn eyes stared out of a second story window. They watched the breeze dance with the leaves on the surrounding vegetation. The forest seemed young and lively this year; fruit blossoms donned several trees near the house. Shades of orange, pink and mauve streaked the setting sky completing the scene with vibrant colors, but these eyes did not appreciate nature's beauty. They gazed with a history of malicious intentions and an ill will, even though the face belonged to a kind- hearted old woman. 

"The pieces are in place." came a voice from behind the elder.

The woman turned her head slightly and nodded. "Thank you Lyra, and would you please send them in?"

"Ma'm." Lyra curtsied in her black dress and left. The wooden floor boards creaked as she walked and a door squeaked as it was opened. "The Mistress Dante will see you now." Lyra spoke from the foyer. Moments later she returned, followed by three others— the three known Homunculi. They bowed at the entrance of the large room.

"Well, we did what was asked, is there anything else needing to be done, I'm getting bored." Envy was the first to speak. He sat on the long oak desk occupying the latter half of the room and looked at Dante. The other two stood in the middle, Lust with hands on hips and Gluttony with a finger in his mouth. Lyra excused herself.

"No. It is not our turn to make a move yet." Dante said. She sat with her hands tented on her lap.

"So what are you anticipating from this?" Lust asked as she tossed her hair over a bare shoulder.

"The boy will tell his superiors what happened. He has now found out or assumes that you all are Homunculi. Most will not believe him, but those closest to him will feel concern and become closer. This will magnify the effect as we tear them one-by-one from his life." Dante replied with a very peaceful, confident tone.

"What about Pride and Sloth shouldn't they be here for these meetings?" Envy asked. "Their in a better position to reach the—

Dante raised a hand to silence Envy. "They are aware of my actions and are the last pieces I will put into action. A king shouldn't be moved until need be. This will have to be played out very carefully in order to get what we want. Patience… We will make our moves in waves. Gently at first, then greater until we break water; then and only then will our goal be handed to us." And with that, Dante turned back to the window.

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Please Review )

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Previous Reviews:

Legendary Chimera2006-08-23ch 1, reply

--This sounds like it's going to be another good one. Nice details, I'm hooked.

vampirelf2006-08-12ch 1, reply

--looks good so far. i esp like your descriptive writing style. i'm wondering what's going to happen after ed tells about the homonculus. update soon!

totallyinlovewithed2006-08-11ch 1, reply

--Hey! Yes you should keep writing! I love your story! DAMN you for the suspense! Keep Writing!

JChrys2006-08-10ch 1, reply

--Lost the story and reviews? Oh man, I'm sorry...Still like it...please, please continue!

Edwin Atticus2006-08-10ch 1, reply

--Yes, please continue...this sounds like a good story. Oh, and also, the plural form for homunculus is homunculi. But all the same, please, please continue

Harryswoman2006-08-10ch 1, reply

--wow! this is really good! keep up the great work and write more very soon!

kuchiki hitsugaya2006-08-10ch 1, reply

--yes please do continue!

OrangeKittyAlchemist-Sony2006-08-10ch 1, reply

--I really like your style. It seems interesting so far. Just wondering, where does this fit in the timeline? Update soon please


	2. Chapter II: My Bittersweet Lemon Tree

**Where Fallen Angels Lay**

Author's Note: Yeah so here is the second chapter- revised. Enjoy! ) Also, I am very sorry it has taken me so long to post the next chapter; I wont take too long for the next ones.

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**Where Fallen Angels Lay**

**Chapter II: My Bittersweet Lemon Tree**

"Homunculi?" Maes asked as he adjusted the glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. He was seated in a hard plastic chair placed next to a slightly elevated bed where Edward lay. The ward was small and only allowed one patient at a time. The walls were painted with that ugly sallow color that made its occupant's ailment seem a dozen times worse. Centered on the furthest wall was a tiny window; grey light filtered through the blue curtains, magnifying the overcast atmosphere of the room.

"You mean like a created human?" The major rubbed his scruffy beard. It'd been a few days since he had had the mind to shave; what with the assault on Edward and then the murdering of several _State Alchemists _popping up, it was turning into a real tango for the Investigations branch of the military, but Maes liked to be kept on his toes.

Edward nodded a reply. This was the third day since he was found in the alleyway and the first day he'd regained consciousness. His entire abdomen was dressed with layers of bandaging and nearly two dozen smaller wounds were concealed with gauze and tape. There had been a slight infection in his tongue causing it to swell, this prohibited any speech, but finally the alchemically augmented antibiotics had kicked in and allowed the teen primitive verbal communication.

Maes sat with a leg folded over the other and a clipboard rested on his lap. He tapped a pen against a half-filled out collation of formal documents. To properly perform an investigation he needed certain information, and so far he had only gotten Edward's name and occupation.

"Let's get down to the description. That'll be the most helpful." Major Hughes scooted closer so he'd be able to correctly record every detail.

Edward pulled himself up, grimacing as he did so. There was a connected dining table to his left where a half eaten meal and a cup of steamy liquid lay. Ed grabbed the cup and took a long slow sip from it. Pine bark and honey tea trickled down his swollen esophagus soothing the small incisions that lined his throat. A natural antioxidant called proanthocyanidin is found in pine bark and is used for building up the immune system along with strengthening connective tissue, while honey alleviates soreness. Edward cleared his throat. "The one… attack me… squat and bald. He wore… black jumper." Ed took another gulp of tea. The more he used his voice the easier it became to speak. "Long arms… big hands… The female—

"There was a _woman_ involved?" Maes butt in and scratched away on the documents.

Edward nodded and continued. "She was tall… had long black hair and a long black dress… Third one… He had spiky green hair." Fullmetal coughed and wiped his mouth.

"Okay, this is pretty good… Is there anything else you want to add?" Major Hughes looked up from the clipboard.

Edward turned his gaze toward the little window at his right. "They each had some sort of… bizarre ability… Woman could extend her fingers into long lances. The green haired guy… transformed into a bird and…" Ed clutched his chest and clenched his teeth shut. He was having a paroxysm. His lungs rose and fell rapidly, involuntarily as chutes of pain electrified his body and his eyes became dilated.

"Edward!" Maes jumped up from his seat, knocking over the chair, grabbed the boy and held him tightly. The young alchemist swayed back and forth on his bed and a thin stream of blood dribbled down his nose. "It's alright Edward just breath, everything is Okay…" After about a minute of repeating the same phrase, Hughes released Fullmetal.

Ed sat staring at the ruffled sheets on his bed and sighed. "I'm sorry; it's just…" He wiped his nose and placed his hand back on his chest. "You know how they say the eyes are the windows to the soul… Well, as I looked one of them in the eye… I saw nothing… They were completely empty, void of any life, emotion… _nothing_… They reminded me of…" Edward took deep breath. "That evening…"

Flashes of light, blood and steam danced around in Ed's mind. The haunting screams of Alphonse's ten year old voice invaded his middle ear as a pair of violet eyes pierced through the haze and into his _own_ soul… Edward shuddered and attempted, like many times before, to shake these reminiscences from his consciousness. "The fat one… I think, can eat people."

Maes stood from the bed and looked down at Edward with an alarmed and worried look, one not too different than that of a parent's. "And you _saw_ these people do this?"

But before Ed could answer the door on the furthest wall from the bed creaked open and in came Alphonse followed by Colonel Mustang.

"Brother! You're awake!" The hollow suit of armor squeaked and quickly clanked over to Edward's bedside.

Ed glanced up at his younger brother and gave him a smile even though he felt awful. "Yeah, I'll be outta here in no time."

Maes steered Mustang back to the other side of the ward where they spoke amongst themselves.

"So how's he been?" The Colonel asked as he ran a hand through his thick hair.

Hughes sighed and glanced at the brothers. "Well, he has only regained consciousness for a few hours, but as you can guess he's becoming restless with every moment…"

"Has he given you any useful information on his attacker?" Mustang caught sight of the clipboard in Maes' hands.

The Major looked down at the documents he held and studied them a moment as if trying to choose his words carefully, but in this situation the direct approach was the best approach. "They're Homunculi."

"What?" Mustang fully faced Maes with a confused and surprised look that almost seemed comical.

"Yes, a created human and there were _three_ of them. A short stout fellow, a green haired guy and a _woman..._" Maes saw a flash of something dash across the Colonel's eyes. "And even more intriguing, they each have some sort of non-alchemic ability." Hughes referred to the clipboard and read what he had written. "The woman can turn her hands into long lances… the green head is able to transform into birds and I'm even going as far as saying he can take the shape of other creatures and other_ humans_. Now the fat one, he _eats_ people." Maes meet the curious and maybe even doubting gaze of Mustang.

"Homunculi… That's a pretty far reach isn't it?" The Colonel shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"It's what one of them had told _him…_ And to tell you the truth, I believe him. As crazy as it sounds…" Hughes rubbed the back of his stiff neck.

"Well, with the bizarre murders of _State Alchemists_ in Central you were telling me about. All of them with their brains blown out from the inside like some kind of freak edema. I guess the appearance of Homunculi would actually make me feel _better_ about this backwards country." Mustang shook his head. "Even—

"You _what_!" Edward shouted as his voice broke into the adult's conversation. He sat up in the bed with a distressed look on his face. And suddenly with his one hand, Ed pushed himself off of the bed.

"Brother! I only called her so you can get your automail fixed!" Alphonse made a pitiful attempt to make Edward lie back down.

Ed hobbled over to Mustang and Hughes. "Where's the nearest telephone?"

"Make a left and at the end of the hall." Mustang answered. "But—

His wounded subordinate was already out the door. Ed headed down the hallway at a quick pace despite the roars and rebounds of pain. As soon as he reached the phone he snatched up the receiver and jammed it into his ear.

"I want to make a call to Resembool… The Rockbell's…" A wave of nausea washed over Edward as he stood there, but it wasn't from his injuries… "Hi, Aunt Pinako, it's Edward… Yeah, I know he did." Ed said trying to sound as casual as he could. "… No, I haven't broken my automail arm." he mustered a laugh. "I had just played a joke on Al and he's trying to get back at me… Uh-huh. By the way is Winry there? Ok…"

His heart began to pound. He knew Aunt Pinako could sniff out a fib as fast as she could blueprint an automail leg… and that went double for— "Hey Winry…" Ed held the receiver as far away from his head as he could as his childhood friend scolded him for something that he "didn't" do. "No, no you've got it all wrong. I pulled a prank on Al and he's trying to get revenge… Yeah, he sure did his homework… No, there's no need to come to East City…You want to visit?

Well, I've just been given another assignment and we'll be leaving in a day or two… Maybe next month or something… Yes, I'll be careful… I promise to call more often…. No, I'm sure I didn't break my arm… Alright, bye…" He hung the receiver back on the hook and exhaled.

Edward slowly made his way back to his ward. As he opened the door he felt three pairs of eyes on him. The metal knob's latch entering the strike plate of the doorframe clicked loudly in the small room. There was an unspoken question hanging heavily in the air.

"These Homunculi…" Edward stared at the bland tiles as he addressed them. "They want me to give up my soul to them… I don't know exactly why, but it has something to do with me seeing the Gate." Edward swallowed as his throat began to ache and looked up at them with a face of sorrow. "And they're going to _kill_ anyone around me to get it."

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A whiff of freshly caught fish and a pinch of humidity rumbaed in the breeze. The summer's sun neared the start of the autumnal equinox as it also neared the horizon. The last few arms of the star's rays attempted to warm the skin of a green haired waif, but he would not receive it. His aubergine eyes stared out at the world filled with a resentment that all too well matched the color of his hair. 

Envy is the seething green venom that dwells in the hearts of all men, yet _he_ having no heart was covetousness incarnate. His master was a little too accurate with his pseudonym…

He swung his bare feet as he sat atop a recently abandoned building. Life, if one could call what he had life, was good. He had the power to take anything he wanted and literally _be_ anyone he wanted at the snap of a finger. His fabricated body didn't need daily intakes of food and water like those _humans _did and it's not like he was prone to any kind disease or illness… Yet his eyes did not see it in that light. They were always hating, always angry and always hunting for ways to cause pain on the "living". As if his previous life was really _that_ bad…

The sun finally dipped behind the rocky hills of the west while Envy stood to stretch his body.

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A thick cloud of smoke filled the East City train station as the last locomotive made its last stop. A few weary passengers got off here and there grumbling to themselves about the delay that nearly held them up for four hours. It was now around ten o'clock and most of the large town had settled down for the night. A tall pale-blonde haired boy stepped off of the fourth car followed by a timid faced smaller one. The two were Russell and Fletcher Tringham sons of Nash Tringham. 

"Look, brother. It's dark and we don't even know where our hotel is." The smaller boy complained.

"Aw it'll be alright Fletcher. We're in a big city now, it's much safer here than any small town." The older said with complete satisfaction. "And plus there isn't anyone dumb enough to mess with _us._ Isn't that right?"

"I guess, but Russ…" Fletcher held his valise close to his chest.

"Come on. Who was it that cleared the railway tracks from that rockslide?"

"We did." Fletcher looked up at his brother.

"Exactly. If we weren't such amazing alchemists then it would have taken those guys _weeks_ to remove the boulders and dirt. Plus there's nothing we can really do about the darkness." Russell noticed the doubtfulness still lingering on his brother's face. He kneeled down and looked him face to face. "Just think tomorrow we'll be hanging out with Edward and Alphonse. I'm sure you miss them or Al at least…"

"Yeah, but do you think it's ok that we didn't call first?" Fletcher said with somewhat of a smile.

"I sure do." Russell stood up and looked about them. "Edward can take us out for my birthday and show us around this place." He began to walk in the direction of the ticket booth.

"Yeah and we can visit the libraries too." Fletcher followed. "You did bring a copy of our progress right, brother?"

"Yup, I've got it all in here." Russell tapped a small tattered carrying case he had around his shoulder and continued out of the hazy station. "Look, they even have streetlamps."

Fletcher's mood lightened a little as he saw several buildings with windows lit. The brothers headed west toward the river; that was about all they knew of the hotel. Russell began to hum an old tune he'd learned from Belshio back in Xenotime. A layer of mist spread about them as a raven followed them down the empty road…

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Here are the reviews from my first publishing. Please review!! )

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KobrahEdo2007-01-19ch 2, reply 

ooh...nice! i love the story and your really good and the discirptions! please update♥

The Spore Whore2006-11-07ch 2, reply

Oh noes, the tension! I don't want people to start dying... but it certainly makes for some awesome drama! I really like this fic, great suspense and mystery abound! It really deserves more reviews then it has. I sincerly hope that you update this, I must see it through till the end!faves

Hasso2006-08-25ch 2, reply

insane fic write more I'll sick my brain on you, you don't want that becuase it not there.

NoZoMi172006-08-22ch 2, reply

that was wonderful!...please keepi writing i loved i must know what happens!

JChrys2006-08-22ch 2, reply

wow...Really good. Poor Ed...my throat hurt just reading that. Good chapter, and looking forward to the next.

Harryswoman2006-08-22ch 2, reply

wow! this is great! keep up the great work and write a whole lot more very soon!

Flashlight Maniac2006-08-22ch 2, reply

More!


	3. Chapter III: Riverside Soliloquies

**Where Fallen Angels Lay**

Author's Note: Sorry it's been a long while, but I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter III: Riverside Soliloquies **

Red irises trailed down the strange detail of a tan forearm. Black markings swirled and snaked around thick tendons; little defined letters littered the tattooed sleeve. This arm, the eyes and the rare, but distinct white hair belonged to an Ishbalan; a forbidden people. To be a bit more accurate in the description of this exile and to only condemn the said person further, his name was Scar. With a bounty so large you could probably see the noose around his neck if you were to catch a glimpse of him; this man traveled the backwater roads and alleys of cities and towns. He wasn't on a mission, he was on a crusade and his mottled arm was the one thing that allowed, no, _led _this dead man walking unhindered and unchallenged. His weapon was also his master.

A crusade could be defined as many things, because it _was_ a many faceted thing. For justice, righteousness, love, revenge, to continue the list would be redundant in driving home the effect, the _meaning._ The crusader need not state his justifications, for the retribution would be the same, but some communicate their purpose for benefit of the spectator.

And so the horrible and inexplicable deaths of twenty-six state alchemists (not including the numerous unfortunate bystanders) were exonerated under the etiquette of crusading. Their souls were forcefully refunded to their maker with no return address and without regard to Sundays or holidays. A burden this man carried alone and alone he carried out the will. Cutting deeply, he carved his name, his _scar_ into the self exposed heart of the government. And he performed it to the utmost degree.

Scar, having made a decent catch in Central, now ambled down the pebbled banks of the river that tailed East City. The city had no doubt heard rumors of his campaign, but was still unscathed by the creed of Ishbala. Staring at his arm Scar continued his conversation.

"… I understand that you gave me this arm only to fulfill your purpose, but brother. Why alchemy? The purpose of Ishbala has been done for many centuries without help. And to resort to _this, _something forbidden from the first encounter of this abominable power?" Scar tightened his hand into a large fist and walked in momentary silence. Besides his intense appearance, the Ishbalan was quite attractive. Tall and muscular accompanied with a strong masculine face and presence, he was something most Ishbalan women desired in a father of their children, but mentally Scar was consumed by a passion no woman could replace or suffice. One track for this one man and it led him toward the Eastern city of Amestris.

Scar sighed and looked up at the rising sun. His red eyes did not flinch under the light. "Those who live by the sword die by the sword." He said as if answering his earlier question. Scar approached a cobblestone bridge and some misshapen lump caught his keen eyes. Without a faltering step or sudden intake of breath he realized immediately what lay in his way. A body. Once completely under the cover of the bridge Scar stopped and stared down at the small boy before his feet.

"Is my heart so torn and so corrupt that death now finds _me_? That even the inevitable coming of my presence will draw it before my path and I must be its orator, heralding those who may not have chosen this judgment?" Scar knelt down to look closer at the boy. His hair was straw-colored and his limbs floated along the rivers slight tug. Scar took his sinless hand and brushed back the lock that clung to the child's cheek and the boy flinched. Though this red-eyed, tainted, relentless crusader ripped life's contract from many bodies he was not without feeling. And so with one muscled arm, Scar dragged the boy out of the water and pulled him into his chest and turned his attention to the city again. No, he was not without feeling.

* * *

Hawkeye set a blue glass mug of dark coffee onto the flat coaster that stuck to an oak desks surface. She carefully placed three, not four, cubes of sugar into the steaming drink so that the coffee wouldn't spit back and turned the cups handle slightly to the right at about 34 degrees from the point of the leather seat that was pushed into the desk. With the completion of that simple task Hawkeye stood upright and smiled, though her inner smile outshone the one settled on her smooth face. Before retreating to the office she shared with her co- first lieutenant Havoc, she stole an unneeded glimpse at the framed picture that sat, angled on the colonel's desk. Her look at the seven people that stood casually in the picture was unneeded because she, aside from being one of the photographed persons, had glanced at the picture nearly every day since its development. From left to right stood: master sergeant Kain Fuery, warrant officer Vato Falman, second lieutenant Heymans Breda, first lieutenant Jean Havoc, Major Maes Hughes on the right side of Colonel Roy Mustang and first lieutenant Riza Hawkeye on his left side. The colonel's arm was coolly placed around her shoulder; they were all smiling. The picture was a pure, wholesome definition of camaraderie, but Hawkeye felt it could foreshadow something more. And such are the ways and wishful thinking of women.

As Hawkeye opened the door leading to a hallway she saw that the colonel was heading her way. Mustang's hair shimmered as he passed under the spaced, fluorescent lighting not unlike a raven's wings under the moon. Once within speaking range Hawkeye greeted her superior with a nod and said "Good Morning sir."

"Good Morning." replied the colonel in a distant tone. He was looking down at a handful of envelopes in his hand. His face was formed into an expression of preoccupation and his eyes were more distant still. Mustang entered his office and with his free hand closed the door behind him.

Hawkeye nodded again as if to justify the Colonel's lack of cordiality. Resulting from current events, they had all been weighed down with an excess of paper and physical work; so she headed to her own office to begin the long day she would set out for herself.

Roy Mustang sat in the leather chair that wheezed as the air was forced out of the cushions. Without glancing up from the letter that he received from a now opened envelope, he grabbed the mug of coffee and took a long swig. He rarely ever had the time to finish even one cup; so he never bothered stirring the sugar that collected on the bottom. Mustang crumpled and shoved the letter under his desk where his trash bin stood next to his left foot; he often missed its mouth. Picking up the next envelop he quickly ripped the top open and withdrew the paper. It was an update from Edward Elric's doctor.

_To: Colonel Roy Mustang_

_My patient Edward Elric was fitted with new automail_

_yesterday afternoon. He will be undergoing physical _

_therapy for the next few weeks. The majority of his _

_wounds are healing rather well considering the _

_severity and he is now out of intensive care. He should_

_be discharged within the next month. For any further_

_inquiry about your subordinates condition please_

_feel free to reply by letter or call the number at _

_the heading. _

_Dr. Ivanov_

Mustang read through the letter quickly and tossed it underneath with the other. He was well aware of Fullmetal's condition as Alphonse continually called to give him updates. The younger brother possessed a motherly quality when it came to the health and mortality of his older brother, Edward. But no one who knew the boys' history would ever think any less of their strong relationship, of the love they held for one another. It was something Mustang felt even a parent could not rival.

The hot liquid that filled his mouth and throat brought him back to his office as he swallowed another gulp of coffee. He had slit yet another envelope open and began reading it. The colonel's eyes began to hover over words slowly and he held the mug still at his bottom lip; and then he'd frozen. This next letter too was about Fullmetal. But it didn't convey an encouraging message as many had when his subordinate was first found injured in that dark alley, nor did it inform him on Fullmetal's recuperation as the previous did, it didn't even complain about how the state alchemist had ravaged half a town tracking down thugs! Even the latter, the colonel Mustang would have taken without surprise, but this was none of the above.

…_is required to give his assessment to _

_continue his term for the next year as a_

_certified state alchemist. You are to relay_

_this letter to your subordinate, Fullmetal _

_Alchemist, and have him reply with the _

_manner in which he would prefer to be assessed._

_Please refer to Page 2 of this document for_

_acceptable options for assessment. This letter_

_is time sensitive and the alchemist of referral_

_must reply within the next week and will perform _

_the assessment the following week. Thank you for…_

Mustang set his coffee mug down with a _clink. _Some brown liquid splashed out and splattered onto the coaster. The colonel sighed and tossed the letter onto the desk top. With both of his hands he rubbed his eyes and then ran his fingers through his hair. _Fullmetal is in no condition to have this put on his shoulders while he's still recovering. _Mustang thought. He made a grimace as if the coffee had left a bitter taste on his tongue. Mustang respected the Fuehrer, but sometimes doubted the integrity of his decisions. It was yet another bullet the colonel put on his long list of necessary changes he'd make once _he_ was Fuehrer. And with another sigh Mustang grabbed the telephone receiver, dialed a short number and waited. "Hawkeye, I have to go pay Fullmetal a quick visit."

* * *

Alphonse stood in the corner of a large white room. His stance was hunched over and withdrawn; in his large gloved hands was a small green towel. If the steel armored suit that housed Alphonse's soul via a blood lined anchoring seal could make expressions with its metal face it would be in a permanent state of anxiety. Edward had even considered drawing worry lines around the forehead and bags under the eyes once Alphonse was asleep, but that idea was quickly shot down at the belated realization that his brother could not, in fact, sleep. And if anyone could ever make a seven foot tall battle suit of armor _look_ timid or meek, it would be Alphonse.

Edward grunted as he continued doing the windmill exercise. His face and body shimmered half in sweat and half because of his metal appendages. Although he was heated with the continuous isometrics, the room was freezing; an A/C unit the size of a French door sat in the corner opposite Alphonse. Edward wore a loose fitting T-shirt; even the smallest size was a bit large since he refused children's sizes, and an equally loose fitting pair of shorts. No shoes as he was to stretch all of his muscles and get them used to working with the automail again. The local automailist who had done the repair on his arm and leg was definitely no Winry, but the job would do fine. Edward hadn't had such extensive work done reattaching his nerves and tendons in a long time that yesterday's surgery felt more painful than he'd remembered. It had also dug up old wounds.

"Ed, please take a break!" Alphonse asked, exasperated. His older brother had been ignoring his pleas for the past twenty minutes. The suit of armor approached Fullmetal with an extended arm. He tried to dab the sweat from Ed's brow, but his hand was slapped away. "Edward! You've been at it for _two_ hours already! Give it a break or you're just gonna hurt yourself!" Al backed from Ed a few inches. He always stood the tallest when he was angry at his brother.

"Al, I don't have _time_ to relax." Fullmetal said through his teeth. Stress, pain and the frozen air from that darned air-conditioned tried Edward's patience and he didn't need his brother badgering him about nonsense. He knew his body better than anyone else! "You heard what the colonel told me, Al. I have my assessment in _less_ than two weeks. _Two_ weeks!" Ed let his mind get pulled to the news he was given earlier in the day.

"_You have to give it your all, Fullmetal. I will try my best and postpone your assessment until you are fully recovered, but they are well aware of your condition and still they request this… I cannot promise anything. So be prepared to deliver in two weeks…"_

Edward panicked at the thought that he wouldn't be able to pass this test. And the three years they had spent so far, all their efforts would amount to…? Because he was jumped in an alley and unable to defend himself? Because he was threatened by… Homunculi?

Edward got down on the hardwood floor and began doing pushups until his metal shoulder cracked suddenly and he rolled onto his howled in pain.

"Ed!" Alphonse shrieked and dove down to his brother's side; his hands tried pulling his brother's golden hair out of his face.

"Stop it, Al!" Edward cried and pushed his brother's hands away again.

Alphonse stood with the quickness that only an unnatural body could accomplish. The gray metallic suit of armor shook with rage. "Brother," Al said in a quiet and controlled tone. "I am try ing to help you." Edward slowly rolled over to see his brother staring down at him; words were forming in his mouth and his eyes glistened, but Al didn't allow him to speak. "I'm tired of you shooing me away like I'm some annoying _pest!"_

"Al, I--" Ed began.

"No! You lie there brother and you _remember_ that we are in this _together _and neither of us is any good in an injured state. Have some _faith_ brother! In _yourself_ at least, because you overworking your body only shows that you really lack it!" With that Alphonse threw the green towel down at Edward's feet and left the white room.

The young state alchemist, Edward Elric or better known as the Fullmetal Alchemist continued to lie on the floor; he didn't think it was possible, but the room had suddenly felt colder.

* * *

Alphonse walked briskly down the streets that led to the less crowded parts of East City. Although he wasn't crying and none of the passersby could tell whether he was even if he could, Al did not want to walk among the cheerful, ignorant, oblivious people that roamed the sidewalks, invaded the shops, and congested the restaurants. _Not all beautiful days were beautiful to everyone. _Alphonse thought as he could hear the sound of his destination draw near. The chatter and trickle of East City's river was different from the cacophonous drabble heard in inner city dwellings. Al had learned to tune out the nonsense he picked up in train stations or food markets, mostly because it was directed at him and his brother… Al shook his head and let his mind wander elsewhere as he reached the river. The water was clear and ran along its old path without worry. The sun was at its noon position and shined down directly into the stream where the pebbles smiled back in reply. Even when the boys were young and whole, and they'd have fights did Alphonse seek refuge and console from their little creek in Resenbol. Ignoring people didn't always work as you could sometimes pick up a word or two, and sometimes they are things you may not want to hear. But the river was different. You could pay attention to its conversation all you want, but its ancient language will always be kept secret and that did comfort Alphonse as he strolled along the bank.

"Brother." He said in a pleading tone. Even when angry at Edward, Al could never keep the emotion alive long and it soon became pretense. Alphonse looked at the river suspiciously and cursed it with his eyes as if to blame it for ebbing away the justification for his anger. He suddenly realized that the sun peered slantingly at his armored body and saw that he had been walking for a couple hours at least. There was only a dirt road to his left and the city was faded behind him. As he turned to head back something awkward caught his eye. Washed up along the bank, directly opposite of him was a brown leather bag. Al was always excited at the chance to use alchemy since it was usually his brother who'd beat him to it. Edging closer to the water's edge, he drew a transmutation circle in the sand with his index finger. And pressing the ground with both hands, Alphonse created a stone hand on the other bank that lifted the bag and brought it across the river and set it at his steel feet.

Al picked up the leather satchel and weighed it in his hands. Besides being waterlogged he figured there was a lot of valuable stuff inside. He searched the flap for a name or nametag.

"Hn!" Alphonse gasped and dropped the bag. Etched into the soggy leather cover flap was the name: Fletcher Tringham. Al glanced at the river and saw that he had been walking down stream and so the bag had come from the direction of the city. Alphonse quickly recovered the sodden paper that spilt from the bags mouth and stored the satchel inside his armored chest cavity. Turning toward East City and with his great iron lungs Alphonse sped down the river. All the weaknesses of the mortal did not hinder his flight.

* * *

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